


twenty-five

by kiyala



Series: soulbonding [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Homecoming, M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire have to spend three weeks apart. They don't take it very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	twenty-five

**Author's Note:**

  * For [besanii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/besanii/gifts).



> Happy birthday to my dear [besanii](http://besanii.tumblr.com/), who is one of the loveliest, kindest people I have ever had the pleasure to meet!

It's four o'clock in the morning when Grantaire steps out of the shower. He's finally managed to scrub all the paint off himself and his eyes are barely staying open any more. He grabs blindly for his wedding band, sitting on the side of the sink, and slides it on as he shuffles to bed, not bothering to wear anything but his boxers. 

Tired as he is, he's careful not to be too loud when he gets into bed, resisting the urge to just collapse into the mattress. It's not until he's lying on his stomach and is reaching to his side that he realises he's alone in bed.

Enjolras is in London, where it's three o'clock and he's probably still awake, typing away on his laptop because he's in a hotel room alone. Where nobody will tell him that it's time to stop working and come to bed, because Grantaire is all the way over _here_ while Enjolras is over _there_.

Grantaire loves the fact that Enjolras is good at what he does, to the point that when his clients move overseas and need legal advice, they will pay for him to fly over and consult for them. He just hates the part where Enjolras has to fly over and Grantaire can't go with him, because of _course_ he's scored a gallery exhibit now, of all times, and it's dangerously close to opening night.

Thankfully, it's not just his art that they're exhibiting. Grantaire doesn't think he'd be able to deal with that right now, and it takes the pressure off him a little, even if there are only three of them. Grantaire has six paintings that he's showing, and he's already finished and submitted them, but he can't sleep for the fact that the opening night of the exhibition is right around the corner, and while he knows that his friends are all going to be there, he's still going to feel like he's going through it _alone_ , because Enjolras is going to be in another country entirely, and part of Grantaire is desperately reaching across the distance, feeling incomplete. 

They've been married for two years now, and Grantaire doesn't think he's ever going to be over the fact that Enjolras loves him, that Enjolras wants _him_. He's smiling when he falls asleep and he's smiling when he wakes up the next morning, to an email from Enjolras, a flight itinerary attached and a message that reads: _I told my client that I might be dedicated to my work, but I am not missing my husband's gallery opening for the world. Love you. E._

He's grinning like an idiot at his screen but he doesn't even care, typing out: _I love you so much xxxxxxxxxxxxx R_.

Enjolras' flight lands two hours before the gallery opening begins. By the time he's through customs and home from the airport, Grantaire is going to have to be at the gallery already. They talk about it over the three days leading up to the gallery opening and Grantaire's fine with it, really. He might be nervous going to the gallery on his own but it's _fine_. He's been there countless times before to look at art—how different can it be, really, to have _his_ paintings on the wall this time? 

He's not convincing himself, but at least it seems that he's convincing Enjolras, so that's something. Grantaire is thankful enough that Enjolras is going to be there at all. He's not going to ask any more than that.

As it turns out, Grantaire doesn't need to ask at all. Three days later, he's standing outside their house, ready to lock up, when a taxi pulls up to their driveway. 

"Grantaire!" Enjolras is walking towards him, his stride purposeful, the handle of his suitcase in one hand, a bouquet of roses in the other. He's dressed in a gorgeous charcoal suit that he must have taken care not to wrinkle while on the plane.

Grantaire can only stare at him. "You…"

"Took an early flight," Enjolras finishes for him. "I couldn't stand the thought of you having to show up to the gallery on your own. I wanted to be there, beside you."

"Best husband ever," Grantaire murmurs, as Enjolras presses the roses into his hands and kisses him hard. 

Their bond is no longer pulling at them now that they're back together, but Grantaire currently wants nothing more than to drag Enjolras inside and welcome him home properly. He reluctantly breaks the kiss and says, "We're going to be late if we don't go now."

Enjolras takes a moment to leave his suitcase inside, and then they're both sitting in the car, holding hands over the console as Grantaire drives the familiar route to the gallery. 

"You look gorgeous, by the way," Enjolras murmurs, watching Grantaire with an adoring smile. 

"No, you," Grantaire mumbles, feeling his cheeks going red. He parks the car and leans across to press a trail of kisses along Enjolras' jaw. "I'm so glad that you're here."

Enjolras' smile grows wider. "So am I."

For the entire three hours of the exhibit, Enjolras doesn't leave Grantaire's side even once. He's always there to Grantaire's left, usually holding his hand, occasionally bringing their joined hands up to his lips, to press a kiss to Grantaire's wedding band. 

"Don't think I don't see what you're doing," Grantaire tells him with a grin, when they're an hour in and Enjolras has introduced himself to everyone they have walked past.

"What am I doing?" Enjolras asks, raising an eyebrow and sipping at his glass of champagne.

"Saying that you're _Grantaire's husband_." Grantaire can't help his small laugh of delight as he says it. "You like letting everyone know that I'm yours, don't you?"

"That's not it at all," Enjolras tells him, shaking his head. "I might as well be telling everyone, _I'm Grantaire's_. I'm yours. Completely yours."

Taking both his hands, Grantaire pulls Enjolras closer, resting their foreheads against each other. "And you know I'm completely yours."

"Oh hey," Courfeyrac pipes up, beside them. "It's the performance art piece: _The Lovebirds_."

"Speak for yourself," Enjolras mutters, pulling away from Grantaire even though he doesn't let go of his hands. Courfeyrac grins at him, his hand in Combeferre's as they stand leaning towards each other, like they're drawn together. Much the same as Grantaire and Enjolras are. 

Grantaire smiles at that thought. Some people just don't need bonds. 

"Congratulations, R," Combeferre tells him with a warm smile, and Courfeyrac echoes it. He smiles at them both, and they're soon joined by the rest of their friends, crowding around Grantaire and telling him how proud they are of him. Throughout it, Enjolras stands by his side, holding his hand and smiling warmly every time they catch each other's eye.

"It's unfair," Enjolras murmurs, when there's an hour left, "that the first time I get to see you in two weeks, we have to grin and bear three hours of being in public when I would much rather be home with you."

"We'll make it worth the wait," Grantaire promises with a wink, and sneaks another glance at the clock. 

By the time they finally get home, it's been almost five hours since Enjolras had arrived home. Grantaire had been perfectly willing to wait through three hours. Four had been pushing it. Five means that the minute they have the door shut behind them, they're turning to each other in unison, reaching for each other and kissing hungrily.

"Missed you," Grantaire gasps into Enjolras' mouth. "Missed you so much."

Enjolras has him pinned against the wall, one knee between Grantaire's legs as they grind against each other. Enjolras kisses his way down Grantaire's neck, loosening his tie. There is absolutely no way they're going to make it upstairs and to their bed, and Enjolras seems to know it too. He takes hold of Grantaire's tie, leading him over to the couch. 

When Enjolras sits on the couch, Grantaire remains standing in front of him, stripping out of his clothes. He's a little too impatient to make a proper show of it but Enjolras appreciates it all the same, sitting up when Grantaire gets out of his briefs and drops them on the floor. 

"Enjolras," Grantaire gasps when he feels Enjolras' fingers wrap around his cock firmly, stroking slowly. 

"I'm sucking you off later," Enjolras tells him, his voice husky. "Three weeks, Grantaire, and all I could think of every night was how much I wanted to get on my knees for you. I'd do it now, but I want you to come on my cock."

" _Fuck_." Grantaire pulls Enjolras' hand away. "Get naked. I need you in me."

While Enjolras gets out of his clothes, Grantaire walks over to the linen closet under the stairs, grabbing the lube they keep stashed there, and a blanket for the couch. Enjolras sits down, patting his lap. Grantaire kneels over him on the couch, squeezing the lube into Enjolras' waiting hand. 

He loves the feel of Enjolras' fingers inside him, so intimately familiar with everything Grantaire likes. He scissors slowly, stretching Grantaire open with three fingers, and Grantaire has to muffle his moan against Enjolras' shoulder. Then Enjolras' fingers are gone, and he's squeezing more lube into his hand, slicking his cock. Grantaire takes a deep breath and doesn't breathe again until he's sitting on Enjolras' lap, his cock in to the hilt. 

"You feel so good," Enjolras gasps, and when Grantaire rocks his hips, Enjolras sounds like the breath's been sucked out of him. 

Then Grantaire lifts himself up, almost entirely off Enjolras' cock, before coming back down and Enjolras moans loudly, his head falling back against the couch cushion.

"Yeah," Grantaire gasps, doing it again. "You like that, don't you?"

Enjolras grip on him tightens, lifting his hips to meet Grantaire's thrusts until they're both moaning wordlessly, slick with sweat as their hearts pound against their chests. 

"You're— _uh_ —so close, I can feel it— _Enjolras_. Want you to—come in me, please, please, please—"

"Fuck, Grantaire," Enjolras pants, grabbing him by the hips and grinding into him, his breath hitching before he comes with a loud moan. 

"Yes, yes, _yes_." Grantaire is a shaking, moaning mess when Enjolras takes him in hand, stroking him to completion. He chants _Enjolras_ under his breath as he comes down from from his high.

They collapse into each other's arms, content to hold onto each other for a while before they finally pull apart and clean themselves up.

Later, when they're in bed and coming down from round two, Enjolras wraps his arm around Grantaire's waist, kissing his shoulder.

"I couldn't even stand spending three weeks away from you. I feel ridiculously clingy."

Grantaire smiles sleepily, resting his head against Enjolras'. "Well, I couldn't either. It's mutual."

Enjolras takes Grantaire's hand. They're both entirely naked except for their wedding bands, which clink against each other quietly. Grantaire hums contently, nuzzling against Enjolras. "I guess I'll just have to be wherever you are. Poor you."

Snorting quietly at that, Enjolras presses a kiss to Grantaire's forehead. As he's drifting off to sleep, Grantaire hears Enjolras murmur, "Lucky me."


End file.
